Chapter 37
Chapter 37
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: Eyelid (10)
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***
Clack, clack.
“This one’s broken too, hmm. This side looks a bit more intact... Ah, here’s one.”
As was the case with everything in the world, plans that seemed perfect on paper always revealed problems one by one when put into action.
‘If things had gone according to the original plan, I should’ve just kept dying and training...’
At first, everything proceeded smoothly. After lifting about fifty reps, the agony of regeneration would leave me foaming at the mouth and writhing on the floor. Once I recovered and stood up, the exercise equipment felt much lighter, so I’d add more weight.
What I had overlooked was that these infection factors were less resilient than I’d thought.
After repeating the process for about six hours, the pain of regeneration was the same, but even after full recovery, I had no strength left to lift the equipment.
‘Could be a stamina issue. Just because someone’s strong doesn’t mean they can maintain that strength indefinitely. Even with the stamina unique to infection factors and Mutation Blood, plus the aid of mutant blood, this seems to be the limit. Muscle growth isn’t accelerating as dramatically as I’d hoped.’
If durability was fixed at 120, there’d be no need to increase the training load, so diligently lifting even a 3kg pink dumbbell should yield significant muscle growth. But as I kept going, I realized that without progressively adding weight, my body wasn’t being strained.
‘There must be some mechanism I don’t understand. Maybe they designed it to prevent this kind of buggy play, or... Glass Body is resilient to tensile and stretching forces, so that might be preventing muscle fiber breakdown.’
That’s how Professor ended up with extra time on his hands, rummaging through the Mandalius mansion.
Professor had slung over his shoulder a bundle made from a torn curtain, stuffed with various fresh and dried fish from the dining room, seaweed, still-fresh-looking shellfish, and a jar containing a bit of flour.
‘Reminds me of the early wasteland days, scavenging around.’
Food had long been looted clean, but he’d go around collecting hard-to-produce items like windows, building materials, furniture, and vehicle parts. Back then, there were plenty of recently deceased people, so Type 2 variants roamed everywhere. Now, mutants prowled outside, and there might even be a few inside the mansion—very similar circumstances.
‘Come to think of it, this game mirrors our reality closely. World 1’s black spot rot plague turned those infected aggressive toward other tribes. World 2’s undead outbreak—dying to undead turned you into one, so it’s a contagion too. And World 3’s Mutation Blood. Minus the pathogen mechanism, it’s practically the same disease.’
Was all this coincidence? Especially since the game that survived as the world’s lifeline amid its collapse had this content?
[I’ll invite you to headquarters if you achieve full clear.]
It felt like he’d glimpsed why massive organizations poured money like water to support rankers.
Even as he pondered, Professor kept scanning his surroundings, stealthily navigating the mansion.
- Deer Drug Please: Oh man, Professor’s looting without making a single sound~
- Jokasss: What’d I tell you? Guys surviving alone in the wasteland are either crazy or tough enough to beat the crazy ones. You can tell just from how he plays—fast hands, sharp instincts, quick thinking. That’s no ordinary guy.
- Take a Look: Entered the dining room, checked every cabinet, grabbed what he needed, and out in under two minutes. Floor littered with wood scraps and marble chunks, and he didn’t make a peep.
- Soy Sauce Gaybar: Ah, look at him clean it out so smoothly. So relaxing. This is healing.
The usual community chatter. A gateway to knowledge about things he didn’t know.
“Hmm... Speed Wagon?”
- Speed Wagon: What.
“...Never mind.”
- Speed Wagon: Lame.
Professor tucked away the question bubbling up inside him.
‘I shouldn’t assume I’m the only one who knows this secret. It’s not like I’m the only one in realistic mode—someone must’ve experienced this.’
Yet, no post on the community had ever linked GG closely to reality or called it suspicious.
‘One of two things. Either GG filters such posts, or... groups in the know take action the moment they appear.’
A faction like Dome, with a 24/7 team dedicated to studying GG, couldn’t possibly be unaware. But if Dome’s research team, which shared most GG findings, was hiding just this...
Professor shook off the spiraling thoughts.
‘This isn’t my concern. Black curtain behind the apocalypse or whatever. What good does knowing do me? Leaking it would just paint a target on my back.
Circumstantial evidence, plus the unusually high mortality among top GG streamers—best to forget this info.’
“Uuu, uuuu...”
Thud, thud, thud.
‘Mutant! Central stairs on the first floor!’
Rustle!
His body reacted instantly to the thought. He secured the bundled loot tightly against his body to prevent swaying, crouched low, and moved silently.
Since starting the game, he’d been careful not to blister his feet, so he was now adept at this. With increased strength, even his added weight produced no sound as he prowled the mansion.
‘Big cats weigh over 250kg too. Key is keeping your center of gravity steady, low posture, smooth movement, and enough strength to support your weight.’
In reality, where he often moved this way, Professor was reminded of how stamina-intensive stealth maneuvers were, feeling the benefits of his strength once more.
- Highway Nacho Man: Professor, what are you looking for exactly? Skipping some rooms means you have a target.
“Yeah. Mutants trashed most everything, nothing big to grab, but gotta check the count’s room, right?”
Truth be told, he’d hoped a bit while ascending. Like the 45th District bunker, a count’s mansion meant anything grabbed was valuable. With only four inventory slots, even one item per would be profitable.
But upon arrival, the mansion was nearly demolished. First and second floors had outer walls mostly gone, everything visible outside. Internal corridors scratched up by that massive thing—every valuable item shattered. Char marks suggested fire too.
“Third floor’s still somewhat intact. Hmm, this one?”
A door clearly different—double-opening, ornate relief carvings.
Click, click!
“Damn... locked?”
After checking for mutants, Professor twisted the handle hard.
Crack!
“Aha! Open sesame!”
Dropping the broken handle, Professor entered the count’s room. It exceeded his wildest imagination.
“Woooow...
- Soy Sauce Gaybar: Wooow...
- Jokasss: Whoaaa....
- Number Three: Hooo....
- Speed Wagon: ....Totally cleaned out.
Spotless. If not for the thick, seamless carpet, it could pass for a monk’s cell—nothing left. Traces of removed items and wall marks suggested it wasn’t always empty.
“They took everything amid that chaos?”
Unbelievable. From Roman’s urgent tone, the mages were in dire straits. So while others fought mutants, servants hauled up and packed all valuables.
“Lacks dignity, yet somehow quintessentially noble...”
Pressing down his rock-bottom view of the count, Professor searched the empty room in vain. Nothing valuable remained. Only slightly singed research records.
“A mage leaving research notes but taking valuables. Mage Isaac, why all the scandals?”
Skimming, it seemed more personal log than research.
Assuming it mirrored the basement records, Professor’s eyes caught a familiar name.
======
...Subject 15, Professor. From fallen nobility. Infection spread all over the body, beyond holy power’s cure. Has unique traits. With prior research, could be useful. No family, low-rank mercenary from near-defunct group. No need for special handling if dies in experiments.
======
“You’d die by my hand if I met you.”
Annoying, but mostly known info.
======
...Closer to Charlotte de Agate than expected. Third visit today. Treatment excuses for refusal have limits. Need to contact the tower for measures.
======
“Hmm. Leadflow School’s political influence is bigger than thought? Enough to sway the kingdom’s First Knight...”
Worth remembering. Leadflow School had ties to Lordric Kingdom’s political nobles.
From his own experiment, Leadflow seemed enthusiastic about unsavory research.
To cover such scandals, allying with the powerful made sense.
======
Scout report from outside city: Mutants moving again. Crystal signal cut after report—closer than thought.
Opportunity. Amid crisis, capital nobles whine about cutting research budget, too much power to Leadflow. If Turan falls? Would they still complain with mutant threat at their throats?
Those pigs need more fear. Like how our school gained influence after Molludic Castle and Pellas fell, shock them more and Leadflow can dominate Lordric’s politics and magic. Can sacrifice Turan—devoid of troops anyway. Worth it to instill vigilance.
======
...This is serious.
“Lordric nobles are rotten to the core. Cutting mutant research funds now, or sacrificing a city of civilians to boost it. Lordric needs to hold out for easier times later. Wonder if they’ll last till final scenario.”
Knew Mandalius was bad, but not this vile. Cloaked in “vigilance,” but sacrificed a city for Leadflow power.
“Easy to imagine. Obscure tower mage suddenly vital after two cities fall, gains noble title—head spun.”
Professor read on: his own records, pre-packed valuables, dramatic escape to avoid suspicion, burn mansion for evidence.
‘Without Roman, I’d be dead.’
Fire didn’t spread—water mage’s home, soaked everywhere. Vases full, humid air. No way it’d blaze freely.
Professor carefully folded Mandalius’s records into inventory.
No valuables, but something more useful.
***
Thud.
“Good. No issues here.”
Professor pulled his arm back, then thrust toward the wall at moderate speed.
Smack!
Slight tingle. Functionally fine.
“Good. Still holding. A bit more...”
Pulling back again, he punched the wall like striking someone.
Thwack!
Crack!
“Ow! Damn. Too much.”
Day 8 since basement training began. Finishing today’s early, Professor tested his body’s durability.
Crack, crunch!
Aligning the broken bone, he muttered.
“If my max power is 100, it withstands about 6-7? That level of impact.”
- Highway Nacho Man: No sense of scale? How much is that?
“Hmm... like a 70-year-old with osteoporosis?”
The 30 durability from infection was tangible. Careful now, daily life was fine.
“Durability’s good. Next, strength...”
Hmm. Safe to test?
In 8 days, dramatic changes. Height up 20cm to over 210cm, muscles bulking him hugely. Strength plateaued, so testing limits.
[Self-harm habit persists? Giggle. Even light hits cause issues—full force must hurt like hell. Masochist?]
Foul scent. Fouler voice.
‘...You promised silence if I won.’
[Stayed quiet 5 days, didn’t I? No deadline set?]
Another change: this guy. Quiet as a mouse, now pestering again.
[Why test strength? Check on enemies later.]
‘If they’re stronger? Need self-assessment to fight or flee chance encounters.’
[Hm, expert! Theory vs. practice differ!]
Mental Fragility healed, now this thing grated nerves.
‘Ignore. Pretend gone. Can’t do anything. Body’s fully mine.’
“Hup!”
Composing breath, Professor swung full force at the wall.
-BOOOM!
“Arrrgh!”
Shock shook the whole basement. Collapsed in agony, he alternated stares at pulverized wall—like bomb hit—and arm shredded, flung back. Ripped from shoulder showed recoil force.
“...Strong, huh?”
- Soy Sauce Gaybar: No joke?
[Awesome!]
‘Please.’
Vision showed the thing excitedly flailing hands.
‘Hey parasite, living rent-free—can’t you stay still?’
[But fun! Arms flying off per punch! No such oddity in your memories! Thrilling! Seeing world through you, your efforts, sensations—all new! Aaah, wanna move. Lend body one day? Promise gentle, return it! You’re just using it now!]
‘...Creepy bastard.’
Acting buddy-buddy, but hadn’t given up.
“Need to exorcise somehow... Like possession? Visit temple for rites?”
Examining scattered arm, faster to regrow than reattach—ditched it, entered tub.
“Ugh, fishy.”
Tub full of fresh mutant blood, like first day. Two days ago, old batch spoiled—dumped, sneaked out night before, kidnapped two lone Grade 8 mutants, drained them.
“Experiments confirm, felt it hunting too. One thing clear.”
[What?]
To parasite’s question, Professor grimaced, then spoke.
“This body’s only viable as a grappler.”
He recalled last night: meeting mutant, instinctively snapping neck instead of using prepared weapon.
***